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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23160325">That. Hurt.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeralsRock/pseuds/FeralsRock'>FeralsRock</a></h1>

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<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown &amp; King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Gore, dude got impaled in the chest there's like no nice way to describe that</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:09:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>434</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23160325</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeralsRock/pseuds/FeralsRock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dying, hurt a lot worse than Beetlejuice thought it would.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>[[drabble]]</p>
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<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>That. Hurt.</h2></a>
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                    <p>Dying, hurt a lot worse than Beetlejuice thought it would. Now that might have to do with the fact that his cause of death was not anything so quiet and dull as simply dying in his sleep or something as quick and violently efficient as a bullet between the eyes. No. He just <em>had</em> to get murdered via impalement. </p>
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                    <p>It was somehow too quick, and not at all quick enough. Whether she realized it or not, Lydia had picked the exact right (or, depending on who you asked, worst) spot to impale her undesired husband. The metal rod had missed his heart (his heart, that had been sitting still in his chest for his entire undead life and had less than even three minutes ago learned how to beat), but it had done a great deal of damage to several other important bits to make up for it. </p>
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                    <p>The blood staining his lips was a testament to the lung that had been nicked and was now steadily filling with the thick red substance. He wasn’t quite sure how he knew, but something about how sluggish his limbs were in responding to his commands (legs, have to stand up, arms, gotta get it out get the rod out get it out out out out) told him that his spine had not escaped the ordeal unscathed either. Every nerve in his chest felt like it was freezing and on fire at the same time. The cold metal of the rod running through from his back and out his chest felt so cold and alien, as sheer agonizing pain radiated out from the lethal wound into the rest of his torso. Every strained and choked gasp for air set fire to his broken and fractured ribs (his sternum might as well not exist anymore with how shattered it was) as his chest tried to expand. The tears of pain welling up in his eyes before trickling down his cheeks felt like rivers of ice against his feverish skin. </p>
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                    <p>Shoving against the blood covered rod sticking out of his chest and pushing it back out of his body was somehow a relief and the worst possible choice he could have made. As if the bad art had been the only thing left holding him up, as soon as it was removed from his body, Beetlejuice collapsed to the floor like a marionette with its strings cut. Before, everything had felt so hot, panic and adrenaline making his body temperature spike, but now, as blood practically poured out of the hole in his chest, he’d never felt more cold. </p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A quick drabble about what Beetlejuice was thinking and feeling when he died.  I'm a sucker for whump and angst so this is what happens when no one is there to stop me.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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